


What Hogwarts Wants, Hogwarts Gets

by seriesly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Hogwarts, Hogwarts is playing matchmaker, Mionerva
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24725110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriesly/pseuds/seriesly
Summary: Only few people know that Hogwarts is sentient to a certain degree. And being magical and old and wise, it has set its sights on getting our two favourite witches together.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Minerva McGonagall
Comments: 125
Kudos: 266





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i found this one in my notes, and couldn't resist any longer to finally post it. originally, i didn't want to post it without the second chapter (which i haven't finished writing yet).. Rest assured that i'm trying my best to upload it soon! (:

In the vast Scottish Highlands there was a castle. It was a special castle, ever since it was created thousands of years ago, when four friends, all of them powerful in their own right, decided to create a safe space for people just like them. It was supposed to be a sanctuary and a home, as well as a place where scholars could meet - in short, they wanted to build a school for wizards and witches of the ages to come. Tirelessly they worked day after day, stacking one stone onto another, building beams and towers, dungeons and hallways, staircases and lairs, secret passages and large halls. All of them worked with pure intentions and in easy cameraderie, and so after a year of construction the castle was built, and it was grander than anything everyone has ever seen. And as the castle was built with nothing but pure, unadultered magic, there castle itself started to become magical, almost sentient but not quite.

It started rotating the staircases, and added some trick steps, it created fake walls, and doors you have to ask gently to be able to pass, and wall that pretended to be doors and ceilings that seemed to bleed into the actual sky.  
And after a long celebration as their work was done, the name "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" was chosen under the influence of one too many drinks.  
It took another three months to decorate the hallways, classrooms, dormitories, common rooms, living quarters, a hospital wing and even the library. Rugs were spread, beds arranged, desks built, hourglasses placed. And a few centuries later, when magical portraits were discovered, the hallways were lined with paintings of long deceased people.

A place as thrumming with magic as Hogwarts soon attracted magical creatures from all over the country. Centaurs started living in the woods close to the school, living in harmony with unicorns and fairies, even Thestrals and pixies, doxies and hippogriffs, gnomes and hornsnarks lived with them, and were feeding off the magic of the grand castle nearby.  
And soon after even the lake was fluctuated with life as merpeople hid in the dark parts of its depths and as a giant squid somehow found its way here.

Then, a fight drove the four founders apart. It was of epical proportions and there was damage done to the castle in numerous fights and duels. For decades, Hogwarts was left empty, and even the magic core deep inside the school seemed to dwindle.

Fortunately, the thirst for knowledge caused scholars to return, as everyone knew the sheer amount of knowledge captured in the books of the Hogwarts Library was only rivaled by the Library of Alexandria. And with the scholars the students returned as well. And with so many powerful witches and wizards who would change the world forever, Hogwarts came back to life, and its magic never dwindled again.

And thus the biggest legacy of the four founders Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin was built and continued to live, even long after the deaths of the four most powerful Magi the world has ever seen. 

Over the years, Hogwarts has seen many, many things.  
It was there when new students would do their first bit of controlled magic.  
It was there when the Middle Ages approached and many refugees seeked shelter in the thick walls of the castle; the sheer masses forced the headmasters to advance the security by adding anti-muggle detection wards, and new towers were added to accomodate everyone. Luckily, with so many clever minds jammed together, it didn't take long to find a way to relieve the sheer boredom - and so Quidditch was invented.  
It was there when people found friends, when they fought, when they made up, when they joked around, when the fell in love, when they cursed each other.  
It was there when people died, but it was also there when new life was born. 

And in the most recent past, it was there when the most vicious war was fought on the school grounds. When people were hating, and hurting, and hoping, and praying.  
It was damaged as the battle was fought, but it was rebuild with intensive care and love, and stood proudly in the Scottish Highlands once again.

Hogwarts has seen so much. It was so old.  
Sometimes it played with its inhabitants when it was bored.  
And sometimes it played matchmaker, when two people were already in love but didn't want to admit it, not even to themselves. Because after all Hogwarts was built with love, and it just wanted to give it back - even if it proved to be a difficult mission.

But Hogwarts was nothing but determined, and what Hogwarts wants, Hogwarts gets.


	2. Strike One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ellie The Lesbian's bigoted comment on my first chapter, I surprisingly found the proper motivation to finish the second chapter.  
> I hope you like it.

A few weeks into the semester Hermione had once again managed to hopelessly bury herself in tomes and essays. It was just a quarter past twelve, and she was sitting infront of the low table by the fireplace, several books flipped open ready to be cross referenced for the essay Hermione was currently working on. Naturally none of the other Gryffindors had the same work ethics, and had retreated to their dormitories a long while ago. 

First, the fire started flickering erratically. Then the other lights in the common room started acting up as well. Hermione jumped up immediately, wand drawn, and looked around for the perpetrator. Suddenly, the room was plunged into complete darkness. She barely managed to stifle her cry of surprise to not wake her housemates for (what she thought was) only a devious prank.

As it happened, Head of Gryffindor House and Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was just on her way to do the usual rounds after curfew. Just as she was passing the painting of the Fat Lady, she picked up a muffled cry coming from within the common room with her acute feline hearing.

"Lumos! Homenum revelio!" Hermione shouted just as the portrait hole burst open. The body binding curse was already on her lips, when she recognized the fine form of her former Transfigurations professor.

"Professor!" Hermione sighed relieved.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" she asked with a stern voice. She lit up her wand with a silent lumos, looking for the other Gryffindors. "Miss Granger, why are you looking like you're ready to duel in the middle of the night? And why in Godric's name is it so dark in here? Are your friends already scheming some plot?" she added with barely concealed wariness.

"No! Professor, this isn't Harry's or Ron's fault... I was just sitting by the fire and writing my final paragraph in my Charms essay, when the lights flickered and then went out." 

The stern Headmistress looked at the younger witch for a moment, assessing her veracity of her plead. After a moment she nodded. "Apologies for my assumption. You and your companions always had the uncanny knack to be involved in every problem this school has had." The skin around her eyes crinkled and the corners of her mouth turned up almost involuntarily as she remembered the countless times she has found her Gryffindor cubs in the most impossible situations. 

Hermione grinned back. "It was not on purpose most of the time." Grin turning to frown she added, "I'm still not sure what just happened, though. My revealing spell only found you and me, but no one else in the common room, so it wasn't some prank as I initially thought."

Making an uncommitted sound, the professor walked around the familiar room slowly and looked out for some changes, anything, with a keen eye. Finding none, she turned back to her former pupil.

Noting the stiffness of her shoulders, she asked in a gentle tone, "Are you alright, Miss Granger?"  
Unused to such a soft behaviour from her Head of House, Hermione needed an extra second before blurting out, "Yes. I'm just a little overworked and see malicious intent where none is to be found. Old habits die hard," she added and laughed awkwardly. The joke fell flat. "Sorry, that was inappropriate."

"Don't apologise." The older witch laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's going to get better. It might take a while, and might never fully go away. But soon you won't have the urge to constantly look over your shoulder. Besides, you're a strong witch. I'm sure you can take on some pranksters from younger years."

"Thank you," Hermione breathed out and smiled gratefully at the black haired witch. They silently looked into each others eyes, faces illuminated only by the tips of their wands. Noting that the silence, though not uncomfotable, was streching too long, the professor cleared her throat. "Well, Miss Granger, I think it best if you take an example of your fellow Gryffindors and turn in for the night."

As the headmistress turned back to the portrait, Hermione grabbed the older woman's arm to turn her back around. "Professor, I haven't had the chance to properly thank you for everything," she uttered with an urgent air. "Everything that you've done for us over the years, and everything you did for us in the war. I am more grateful than I could ever say." 

Deciding this was the right moment to be a little more daring, she crossed the distance between them and enclosed the tall witch in her arms. At first the older woman was stiff as a board. Then after a moment of shock, she quickly moved her arms around Hermione's shoulders and returned the unexpected hug that she's found herself in. "You're welcome, Hermione," she muttered into her ear, which in turn made delicious tingles running down Hermione's spine.

Releasing the hug, Hermione stepped back immediately. With a final nod, Professor McGonagall turned around and stepped through the portrait hole and into the dark and deserted hallways of Hogwarts.

When the professor turned in for the night, she finds herself fighting a headache. _Merlin's beard, what am I getting myself into?_

In another tower similar thoughts, albeit more clueless, were plagueing the younger woman as well. _What just happened?_


	3. Strike Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good god, this chapter is _so much longer_ than I ever anticipated - almost 4k words. I hope it was worth the wait - enjoy.
> 
> (Please be aware that the rating has gone up to M!)

The next morning dawned early and bright, birds chirping their praises in the distance. It was a regular Friday morning: It started very slow for most students, who tried to savour the last few minutes they could stay in bed, even if they could hardly afford being late for breakfast and classes afterwards.

Hermione wasn't one of these pupils. Despite her late night she woke before most Gryffindors, as a lifetime of getting up so early didn't allow her to peacefully sleep in.

She calmly got dressed and packed her book bag for her classes before noon - that meant she only had to get her large book for double Charms. It was followed by a double Herbology class, however Professor Sprout had announced in the previous lesson they would not need any books for today's lesson as they would work with the Spying Dragonmouth, which had the unfortunate tendency to spit flames if it got irritated. 

The common room was just as deserted as when Hermione had left it around midnight. Curiously, she swept her gaze across the room, taking in the armchairs, chairs, tables, bookcases, posters on the wall, and the fireplace. Even in the brightness of the morning she couldn't find evidence or causes for the events last night. Shrugging, she sat down by the low table again, and pulled out her unfinished essay. After working on it for another fifteen minutes, she was finally happy with the end result. Just as Hermione was packing everything, her stomach growled loudly. Making her way to the Great Hall, she quickly climbed out of the portrait hole and greeted the sleepy Fat Lady. 

Poor luck had it that none of the fourteen staircases down to the Great Hall were aligned for her this morning. Instead of waiting for them to turn into the right direction, she took down the stairs that led her to the ninth floor, passed by the Centaur tapestry, went down the corridor with the seven legged kraken, turned left to the hallway with the gentle incline and made her way through the rhyming door. Of all things to rhyme about when she stepped through, it decided to blabber about Quidditch.

_"Forgot the rules of our favourite sport?  
Well, that's quite a shame, I have to retort  
You'll need a Keeper, two Beaters, three Chasers  
\- At Hogwarts that means they are all still teenagers -  
They will score some points while flying on a broom  
Hoping they'll send the rival to their doom  
And when the Seeker catches the snitch  
It ends a long game of superb Quidditch."_

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Finally reaching the Grand Staircase again, now two floors lower, she tried to map out the quickest route. Unfortunately, the staircase down was currently leading to the dead end corridor on the sixth floor. She eyed the other staircase leading up to the corridor that housed the Transfiguration classroom. Seeing it as the only way to move forward, she climbed the steps again. 

Just as the brown haired witch was near the classroom, a loose cobblestone that she could've sworn wasn't there a second ago made her stumble. Not seeing the witch that exited the lecture room at the very same time, she went careening into her. Both of them went down at the sudden impact. 

Surprised about the relatively soft landing, Hermione opened her eyes again, ready to apologise to the person she accidently ran over. Her eyes were widening as she recognized the other person. "Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry, Professor!" she yelped. 

Landing on her back – with the added weight of the student of top of her – knocked the breath out of the usually poised Transfiguration mistress. Hermione leaped up immediately, and offered the older witch a hand who took it with a small but grateful smile.

"Don't worry about it, Miss Granger. It wasn't the first time and certainly won't be the last one that someone runs into me." The headmistress brushed off some dust from her robes. From the corner of her eyes, she appraised the younger witch who was busy rubbing her left elbow. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"Um, no. I had a soft landing," Hermione replied absentmindedly. 

"I'm glad you think so." The animagus smirked and raised her right eyebrow. Just then Hermione's mind caught up with what she had said. She immediately flushed hotly, but as no intelligent answer crossed her mind, she stayed quiet. 

"Well, good morning to you, Miss Granger," the older witch concluded their conversation, and made her way towards the Grand Staircase.

"Wait!" Hermione shouted suddenly. The headmistress turned around again. "If you are on your way to the Great Hall, then you should follow me."

"I've been walking around the castle for quite a while, Miss Granger. I know that taking the stairs of the Grand Staircase is the quickest route to the Great Hall."

Hermione slightly cringed in return. "Yes, I know. Not that this was what I was insinuating." She muttered the last part. Shaking her head, she continued loudly, "That's where I came from. The stairs are currently leading to the rhyming door, not to the Arithmancy classroom." 

"I can't remember the last time it wasn't leading to the Arithmancy classroom." Seeing as the student was right in her assessment under these circumstances, the professor sighed inaudibly and caught up with her student. 

Together the two witches continued their way down.  
Trying to fill the silence between them, the older woman started. "Did you finish your assignment, Miss Granger?"

_Assignment? What assignment? Was I supposed to turn something in for Transfiguration? But how does she even know my– Oh. The charms essay. That's what she meant._ Hermione breathed deeply before answering. "Oh yes, I just finished it a few minutes ago, before I made my way down here."

Biting her lips, Hermione tried to assess the mood the other woman was in from the corner of her eyes.

"Do you wish to tell me something?"

_Not inconspicious enough then._ "Professor, I was wondering if you could perhaps answer a question about Transfiguration? I was about to ask Professor Drawoul in our next lesson, but I just remembered it and you have been teaching me for so long, I think I would understand you explanation much better anyways. But if you don't want to talk about it before breakfast, I don't want to burden you with dull questions," Hermione rambled. She missed the fleeting smirk on the other woman's face. 

"Miss Granger." Hermione anxiously peered into the eyes of the Headmistress. "I've taught Transfiguration for over forty years and if circumstances hadn't coincided this way, I would still be teaching without a doubt. So don't you ever worry about asking _me_ of all people a question about Transfiguration." She glanced at the girl walking next to her. "Especially since I doubt your questions will be as boring as you made it seem."

Hermione started beaming at the acknowledgement.  
The two women conversed quite naturally about the theory behind Transfiguration for the duration of their walk. They crossed the inner courtyard, greeted the Grey Lady who was floating by (who looked curiously at the couple without either of them noticing the speculative glance), and passed by the library. Professor McGonagall was even showing her some shortcuts that Hermione has never seen before, although the narrow corridors had the two women walking closely side by side, hands accidentally brushing sometimes. 

Luckily this close contact was the reason why Hermione didn't stumble and fall a second time this morning: Her right foot got caught in something in the dark corridor, which made her lose her balance and stumble into former Transfiguration professor next to her. The black haired witch instinctively put her arms around the younger woman's waist and flushly pulled her into her side. 

"Gravity is a bit rough on you today, eh?" the older woman quipped. Hermione snorted at the unexpected joke coming from her usually formidable Head of House. She finally let go of the teacher's robes that she had bunched up in her fists.

"Thank you for catching me. Again." Hermione grinned. "You are certainly my knight in shining armour today." 

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Miss Granger," the witch replied, the joyful sound of her voice betraying her words.

Fortunately they arrived at the Great Hall a mere minute later without any further incidents.

"Have a good day," Hermione announced happily, "and thank you for answering my questions."

"Good day to you as well, Miss Granger." The headmistress gave Hermione a terse nod and made her way to the teacher's table. 

*****

When Harry and Ron finally appeared at the long Gryffindor house table, breakfast was almost over. Not bothered by the time pressure, they heaped piles of food onto the plates and into their mouths. Sometimes Hermione was genuinely surprised they hadn't seriously choked on food in all those years.  
When the food massacre was finally over, the three made their way up to Charms - the staircases were luckily in their favour now. Only the very last one was stubbornly pointing into the wrong direction, and as Harry and Ron were unwilling to walk a few extra meters they waited. Unnerved by the possibility of tardiness to one of her favourite classes, Hermione tried to persuade the two boys who stubbornly refused to walk a detour.

That's how the headmistress found them a few minutes later. As if on cue the staircase finally obediently moved, abruptly ending their discussion.

"Mister Potter, Mister Weasley," McGonagall nodded at them, before turning her head to Hermione. "Miss Granger," she said in a much warmer tone, which didn't go unnoticed by the two boys. 

Hermione let the two boys walk ahead and instead opted for quietly falling in step with the older woman. As their paths split again, Hermione bid the professor goodbye once again, and caught up with her friends. None of them saw the slightly puzzled look in the black-haired witch's face.

*****

It was as if fate had conspired against her, Hermione thought.  
Crossing paths three times in four hours in a castle as big as Hogwarts? Rather unlikely. And yet as she, Ron and Harry made their way towards Greenhouse 3 after the Charms class, they met the headmistress once again. She briefly smiled at the stern witch before they continued on their way.

Hermione pondered a bit about the stark contrast between the former headmaster and the current headmistress. Dumbledore was usually only sparsely seen in the corridors. That even intensified during her fifth year. Back then she had never seen him apart from the occasional meal he ate at the teacher's table. It was almost as if he didn't exist outside of the Great Hall.  
Professor McGonagall seemed much more available and approachable. She was still her formidable self, but she had forgone the mysterious flair that Dumbledore always seemed to have.

These thought were quickly banished out of her head when the three students entered the warm and humid greenhouse.

*****

As lunch rolled around Hermione was once again reminded why Hogwarts students didn't necessarily need an additional sports class. Thursdays were unfortunately always structed in a way that the students constantly had to walk several staircases up and down: First they walk down to breakfast, then up to Charms, down to Herbology, up to the Common Room again to grab the books for the afternoon class - Potions - and then down to lunch. 

Exhausted by the 56 staircases she had climbed or descended today, Hermione plopped down next to Luna and Neville. As he had signed himself out of the Potions N.E.W.T. class, he was one of the lucky few who was spared the 14 staircases up and down. 

Barely thirty minutes later Hermione groaned as she had to get up from the house table. Neville only gave her an apologetic look before he continued his discussion with Luna. 

Exiting the Great Hall, Hermione almost ran into the tall witch next to the entrance. "Oh!" she exclaimed. At the sound McGonagall turned around.

"Miss Granger," she said with a gentle smile. 

"Professor! What are you doing here?"

"I noticed an odd shape in the walls here. I was worried it was a remnant of the recent battle." She vaguely gestured at the wall. Now that Hermione focussed on the area, she was able to see some vague dark lines on the stone.

"It doesn't look like the stone is fractured." The brown-haired witch stepped closer, letting her hand gently follow the dark trail in the cool stones. "It looks painted on. Except –" She furrowed her brow. "Except you can't paint the stones," she concluded.

"You are correct," the soothing voice next to her agrees, "which is why I had to investigate this odd occurence."

"Huh... Maybe you can tell me about it if we happen to run into each other _again_ , Professor." Hermione grinned.

"Ah... So you've noticed that as well," the older witch replied absentmindedly. She stroked a finger across her lips, apparently deeply in thought. Then she started smirking. "If we indeed happen to cross paths again today, I'm inclined to share my findings about this strange occurence. Apart from that, Miss Granger, how is your day faring?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise by the unexpected but not unwelcome question. "So far my classes have been good as usual. But whoever planned this schedule tried to kill me. I've been running up and down all day."

"That would've been me, then." Green eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Huh?" the younger witch croaked unintelligently. 

"When I was still the deputy, I planned the schedules. We haven't actually deviated from the original plans."

"Oh. Oh no... I didn't mean to insult you, Professor! I... Um... I only meant that -"

Her stammering got interrupted by a loud laugh. The usually composed headmistress stood there, head slightly thrown back, shoulders shaking slightly, worry lines all but gone, and a wide smile plastered on the older woman's features.

Only then it occurred to Hermione, that she had never heard the other woman genuinely laugh like that. She also knew that she wanted to hear the rich laugh again.

"Don't worry about my pride, Miss Granger. I've heard far worse," she grinned, mirth still obvious in her eyes and lips and Hermione can't help but giggle as well.

"I'm glad. I'll have to go to Potions class now, but good luck with your quest. See you around." Hermione nodded goodqbye and turned to corridor leading down to the classroom.  
In her elated state she didn't even take notice of the dreaded descent.

*****

The excrutiatingly long class quickly dispelled all joy Hermione had, as the class only consisted of reading a chapter in their books about the different effects of slicing, dicing, mincing, chopping pixie's weeds as well as the differences between simmering and boiling it - a chapter Hermione already has read the week before. Utterly bored, the lack of sleep last night finally caught up with her, and when the lesson was over Hermione for once was one of the students who almost sprinted from the classroom. Harry and Ron stared after her in surprise, and did their best to quickly catch up with their friend.

On the way up to the Tower, she saw the headmistress, but she only smiled tiredly in acknowledgment. 

Knowing that Hermione would want to start on school work, Harry and Ron quickly rushed to their dorm, and charged out of the common room a few seconds later with their brooms in their hands, obviously not keen on getting berated by Hermione for procrastinating. 

Hermione, however, was somewhat eager to start early on the assignment for Potions, she sat down by the low table - only to find that she had apparently forgotten her book on her table. As her fellow Gryffs showed up in the common room, hope flared up that someone might have seen the book and brought it. 

Bad luck had it that while several of her peers had indeed seen the book none of them actually packed it, as they assumed that it was deliberately left on the table - after all Hermione Granger loved her books and would never leave one behind willingly.

Suppressing her groan, she trotted all the way down again. Of course she met Professor McGonagall again on the stairs who apparently made her way up to her office. Hermione's incredulous stare was met with a delicate raised eyebrow.

"Miss Granger," the emerald clad woman spoke and nodded.

"Professor McGonagall." Hermione returned the nod.

_This day was getting weirder and weirder._ Reaching her destination a few minutes later, she was relieved to find her book exactly where she left it. 

And so her ascent began anew. Contemplating how sore she would be after today's workout, she was slightly off-balance when the staircase suddenly moved. 

So did the adjoining one. Suddenly she found herself once again face to face with the Headmistress.

She guffawed. "Professor, are you secretly trying to follow me? Because you're doing an awful job at hiding it." Hermione laughs.

"I have to admit that it's almost unsettling how often our paths cross today," the black-haired witch replied, barely suppressing her smirk. "I am almost convinced you had acquired a new time turner."

"No, this is still me from three minutes ago," she snorted. "I forgot my book in the classroom." She threw a speculative glance at her Professor. "How come you are on the move again? I feel like you're wandering the halls just as much as I am."

A deep sigh escaped the older woman. "For some reason there were several emergencies that required my assistance as Headmistress and Transfiguration mistress. My colleagues told me about unusual occurences with the castle, just like the one you've seen earlier today, but when I arrived at the spot it was already gone again."

"Do you have an idea yet what causes these irregularities, Professor?" Hermione said, concern lacing her voice.

"Unfortunately not. But don't worry about it. It might just be a magical shift in the wards that produces physical alterations within the castle. We'll see if it stops by tomorrow or if it gets worse. Nevertheless I am required to check the changes to rule out any malicious intent."

Compassionate brown eyes met green ones. "I hope you can solve it soon then." She smiled gently at her former professor. 

The headmistress lifted the corners of her mouth in turn, and softly said "I hope so, too. Have a good day."

"Good day to you as well," she replied and stared at the retreating back of the formidable woman. The formidable woman, who seemed to be much softer than usual.

*****

The rest of Hermione's afternoon is spent in the common room, preparing for coming classes and chatting with Ginny and Neville as soon as she was done. She even let herself be coaxed into a game of chess with Ron after the two boys returned with wide smiles on their faces and windswept hair.

Dinner was an easy affair as the good mood had persisted, as the boys were happy to have a full free weekend ahead of them. They didn't even complain when Hermione told them to go ahead without her afterwards because she wanted to check out some facts in the library.

Half an hour and various new ideas for her essay later, Hermione ascended the steps of the Grand Staircase once again. _The last time for today, thank Merlin!_

A terrified squeak from a painting momentarily distracted her, and just as Hermione was turning back, someone suddenly ran into her. She tightly held onto the waist of other body, but the momentum of her turn caused both persons to spin a bit further. She managed to catch their descend, but now she held her former Transfiguration professor in her arms. Their pose almost looked like a dip in dance. Hermione couldn't help but notice how _right_ this somehow felt, supporting the weight of the other woman with her arms behind her back.

They stared at each other. McGonagall's mouth was opened in silent "o". Her eyes flickered madly between Hermione's worried, chocolate brown eyes and shortly to the rosy lips. Her cheeks flushed as soon as she was aware what she was doing.

After the moment of shock passed, Hermione became acutely aware of the fingers that were desperately clinging to her shoulders and might even leave bruises. She quickly returned them into an upright position.

"I can't say I'm not surprised by your quick reflexes, Miss Granger," Minerva rasped out. "I'm very glad you seem to be around me all the time today."

"So am I," Hermione genuinely replied. She felt a warm hand gently pressing her shoulder and only then really became aware of her arms, that still were loosely around the waist of the headmistress. She quickly pulled her arms to her side and felt her face grow warm. "Sorry," she mumbled, not able to look the older witch in the eyes. 

Not wanting the brown-haired witch to be embarrased by her action, Minerva gently put her fingers under the chin of the younger witch and lifted her face. "Who knows how much I'd have injured myself if you weren't there to catch me," she emphasised, green eyes swirling with emotions mirrored in the brown eyes of Hermione.

A pregnant pause ensued, which was broken by Minerva's heartfelt "Thank you very much." Then she stepped away for good.

"You're welcome," Hermione uttered. 

For a moment neither of them knew what to say.

"I better get going. Ron and Harry are probably wondering where I am." She said sounding more resolute than she felt. 

"Have a good night, Hermione," the black-haired witch answered softly and shortly pressed the younger witch's shoulder. 

"You as well" _Minerva_ , Hermione's mind supplied.

*****

That night Hermione let herself think about her teacher for the first time. She had admired the woman for very long time. But feeling her today... It made Hermione consider the woman behind the stoic mask. It made her think about soft curves and gentle slopes of a woman's body and about holding the weight of the aloof Scottish woman. She thought about the green eyes resting on her lips. She thought about the feeling of resting her thigh between the legs of the older woman. She wondered if McGonagall was a good kisser. She wondered how she sounds when she moans - breathless? Needy? Mewlingly? Does she try to keep sounds to herself? And if she does, is her body betraying her, moving against clever fingers and tongue if given the chance?

Without her really noticing, her fingers had found their way to her dripping wet core. Slightly ashamed of how she got here but far too aroused she finally gave in and let her fingers plunge in and out. She thought about the way, Minerva said her name today.  
_Hermione._  
She came at an alarming speed.

*****

Not so far away, the witch with jet-black hair tied in a bun was having more pronounced pricks of her conscience. 

Then she thought about caring, warm, and intelligent eyes. She thought about softly spoken words. She thought about rosy lips and an elegant Cupid's bow. She thought about arms around her waist, and how _right_ it felt. 

And she felt like she was fighting a battle that was already lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the kind comments! I feel like I can't put it into words properly how grateful I am - but thank you so so much for commenting... It really made my day. I literally couldn't stop grinning. :D


	4. Strike Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I still do exist (Hooray!), and I finally managed to stop procrastinating and write this damn chapter :D As always, I hope you enjoy reading it.
> 
> Some translations, so you have an idea what those words mean:  
> Aperire = open  
> Recludere = unlock  
> Discedere = disappear

Saturday morning found Hermione well rested as she woke up with a smile on her face. Right now she felt as if she could take on the world and win. But then as she moved out of bed, the sticky remains of last night reminded her of the pleasure she has found in thinking of a woman's body. Correction, not just any woman's body, _McGonagall's body._

Immediately shame and embarrassment flushed through her body. Hermione let herself fall back into bed with a groan. What was she thinking?! She admired the woman, she always had and now... Was she gay? Was this a one-time thing caused by high hormones? She had never even questioned sexuality before, as she had had a crush on Ron for the longest time... 

Racking her brain for instances when she maybe had been interested in the same sex... Hermione remembered her the 'girlfriend' she had in kindergarten. They even got "married", or at least they pretended to get married in a fake ceremony. _But that doesn't count, right?_  
Then there was her best friend Laura in primary school, and Hermione recalled how jealous she had gotten when she went with another boy to the Halloween party.  
With a start more people entered Hermione's mind - her Maths teacher in secondary school. The new girl from next door. The lead singer of her favourite muggle band. Even Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw for a short amount of time.

Looking back, Hermione was horrified to realise just how many of her childhood crushes were female. Merlin, how did she not see that before?

Rubbing her face, she turned her thoughts to the problem at hand and the next few days. At least it was Saturday so she might not see the Headmistress at all and hopefully avoid an awkward encounter. Technically she would only see her at meal times, and maybe she could skip the Great Hall completely and instead eat her meal directly in the kitchens.  
Then again, yesterday was a proof that you could cross paths with someone more often than you think. 

Holing up in the Common Room sounded more attractive by the minute. Maybe she could convince Harry and Ron to sneak up some food for her... Although she would need another book from the library – she did use it for cross referencing yesterday, however she hadn't taken notes and it would not do for her essay to quote a famous transfiguration book and then not cite her source properly.

Letting out a long breath, Hermione mentally steeled herself for a short trip downstairs to the library. _It's just a couple of staircases down and up again, nothing you haven't done before. It'll be faster than I fear, right? Besides, how likely is it that I'll run into McGonagall at -_ She cast a nonverbal tempus. _\- half eight on a Saturday?_

*****

The trip downstairs went off without a hitch – if you disregarded the fact that Hermione's legs felt like lead due to her sore muscles – but as she made her trip up again, fate didn't let her get away so easily. 

She was just on the sixth floor, when suddenly a person next to her cleared their throat. _Shit._ Hermione slowly turned to the other person, unable to hide a slight grimace when she realised who was standing in front of her - the very person she had sought to avoid today.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," the tall, black-haired Transfiguration mistress smiled warmly. 

"Good morning, Professor," Hermione replied with a surprisingly even voice, although her thoughts were racing. _She doesn't know anything. Calm down, Hermione. The faster you get this over with, the faster you can return to the common room._

"It is a very fortunate coincidence that I happened to meet you this morning. I was just on my way to another occurrence in the castle, and I'm certain I will find out how to fix this problem," her eyes gleamed with joy and satisfaction of being so close to solving a mystery. An assessing quality entered the green eyes, "If you are amenable and interested you could join me."

Hermione's brows shot into her hairline at the unexpected proposition. "Yes!" she replied promptly. _YES?!_ , she immediately scolded herself. Of course her inner swot would not, _could not_ decline the offer. What an absolutely unfortunate moment, though.

Seeing the sour look on the student's face, McGonagall coolly added, "You are allowed to say No, Miss Granger, if you don't want to come with."

"No!" she shouted out. "I mean, I wish to accompany you." Wondering again where this conviction came from, Hermione cursed herself as there was absolutely no way she could back out of it now.

"Well then, right this way."

*****

The two women walked mostly in silence through the castle. One woman was alternating between scolding herself for accepting without thinking it through first, and studiously trying to ignore her thoughts from last night, even though it felt like they had changed everything.  
The other one could see how the younger witch seemed to cling to the book in front of her chest, but decided to let her be for the moment.

They came to a stop on the third floor. 

Hermione, Ron and Harry had done their fair share of exploring the castle in the past seven years, especially after finding the Room of Requirement and wondering what other secrets were hiding within these thick Scottish walls. However, they never ventured very far into the dungeons – decidedly Slytherin territory – and they also steered clear of the third floor. A couple of times they went back to the bathroom where their friendship had started with beating a troll unconscious. Nevertheless it was still the first adventure that might have ended with one of them losing their life, and so they had unconsciously stayed away from it.

Now, standing before an enormous wooden door, Hermione regretted their choice to not explore any further; she felt decidedly disadvantaged, as she had no idea what was lying beyond the door.  
The intricate pattern in the dark wood showed how much work must've gone into creating it. The doorway itself was framed by two solid stone columns with carvings in it. Small people could be seen holding hands and celebrating, there were a few carvings showing witches and wizards doing impressive feats of magic, and a crowning of sorts was also depictured. It strongly reminded Hermione of the Trajan's Column that she had seen in Rome a few years back. Only that these columns definitely showed a lot more detail, and Hermione couldn't help but think that magic helped a lot with it.

All in all, the giant double doors seemed to be the only barrier between the two women and another secret room in the old castle.

"The magical alteration is just beyond this door. I can feel it." Professor McGonagall furrowed her brow for a second, cocking her head slightly as if straining to listening to a distant song.

Hermione sent a sidelong gaze to her former professor. "What do you mean, you can feel it? I don't notice a difference."

"It's one of the perks of being headmistress," she replied nonchalantly. Hermione was tempted to ask for more details, but then the other witch moved forward and grasped the large silver ring serving as a door handle. Without further ado, she pulled it open soundlessly and ushered Hermione in.

Momentarily blinded by the light coming from within, Hermione passed over the threshold... and came face to face with an ordinary classroom.  
A thin layer of dust covered two dozen desks to her left and the larger desk for the teacher in front of her. A wooden cabinet, faded by the time passed, stood proudly in the far corner of the room. Dust particles were dancing in the morning rays coming in through the five elegantly curved windows on the opposite wall of the entrance.

Quietly the two women were looking around for magical disturbances for a while. The headmistress had stepped closer to the cabinet, which turned out to be empty when she opened the aged doors. Hermione had put down her book for a moment and studied the teacher's desk, imagining the lessons of days gone by. 

All of a sudden, a rush of old magic swept past them, enveloped them for a second in a strange but comfortable warmth, and then rushed past them straight to the ornate door which slammed shut with a loud bang.

Black robes brushed past the young Gryffindor woman, who had drawn her wand instinctively. She watched as the taller woman pressed against the door, which didn't budge even an inch. When stemming her full weight against the double doors didn't change anything, the venerable witch pulled out her own wand from her sleeve and cast an Alohomora. 

Frowning at the unchanged door, the Transfiguration mistress drew a complicate pattern into the air. A light blue spell escaped her wand and hit the door just over the ring handle.

The magic pulsed and swirled on the wood for a second, making the whole thing look uncomfortably alive. A moment later the light shrank up again and rebounded, heading straight to Professor McGonagall. Only her reflexes heightened from war allowed her to draw up a shield in time and reflect it to one of the walls.

"Professor, are you alright?" Hermione yelled and ran over to the other woman.

The look on McGonagall's face was equally confused and disquieted. After a moment, she composed herself again, slipping her emotions back behind her unreadable mask. 

"Yes, Miss Granger, I am perfectly fine. Unfortunately, I am unable to lift the block that has been placed on the door." 

"Which means we are essentially locked in." Hermione made a doubtful face.

"I'm afraid you are correct," the older woman confirmed, "It was one of the most powerful unlocking charms I know, and as the headmistress of Hogwarts it should have unlocked any door in this castle."

"Do you mind if I try my hand as well?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"By all means." The black-haired witch turned away from the door and a with a swish of her hand a patronus cat appeared in front of her.

Hermione eyed the tall door for a moment, and weighed different options in her mind. She knew a simple alohomora wouldn't work, but neither did the complex charm. With an unsatisfied huff, she realised that she wouldn't know for certain if other spells could work until she tried them.

She took her fighter stance. "Aperire!" 

A yellow dolt escaped the vine wand, and was simply absorbed by the dark wood. Otherwise, the door remained unchanged, no clicking indicating the charm worked.

"Recludere!" Hermione tried again. 

This time, the yellow light was not immediately swallowed but seemed to create waves like a drop of water falling into a quiet lake. After a moment the strange occurrence disappeared.

"Discedere!" 

The ochre spell had barely impacted the door when it suddenly mixed with yellow light and it flew right back at Hermione. A sharp tug on her elbow saved her from getting hit by the rebounding spell, but instead made her fall into the warm embrace of her professor.

"Were you hit?" McGonagall asked immediately. 

Hermione looked up into worried green eyes. Her eyes wandered over the face before of her, trying to take in every detail: The high cheekbones defining the elegant features, the alabaster skin looking soft, the dark lashes enhancing the bright green eyes...  
Hermione realised with a start how close they were and that her arms were comfortably resting around the thin waist of the other woman, and images from last night flashed through her mind and how wantonly it had made her feel. She immediately untangled her arms and took a step back. 

"No," she replied with a strained voice, "Thank you."

The headmistress appraised her for another long moment. She nodded sharply, "Good. I already sent a patronus to Professor Flitwick. The combined efforts of a charms master on the outside and the two of us here will get us out in no time." A determined look settled on her face. "And then I _will_ find out what has been going on in Hogwarts."

The tall witch sighed. "In the meantime... Why don't we sit down while we wait?" With a well-practised flick of her wand two comfortable looking armchairs appeared.

An uncomfortable silence descended onto the room as the two witches sat down, pretending it was the most normal thing for them to sit in a locked room together on a Saturday morning, and failing miserably. 

After a few minutes, when Hermione was unable to endure the uneasiness any longer, she asked the question that has been on her mind for a while. 

"Professor, earlier you said you can feel the magical disturbance... Can you still feel it now that we are actually in the room?"

The older witch hesitated. "No... And yes." She met the questioning gaze of her student. "Before entering it felt like the magical signature of the entire room was wrong. I assumed that we would find the root of it rather quickly. But then as soon as we stepped over threshold, the feeling diminished... Only a trace is left now, and I can't make sense of it."

"When you say you can feel the magical signature, you mean...?"

"It's a rather complex topic, Miss Granger. Maybe I can explain it to you at a later time, when the circumstances are more... ideal." 

They did not wait for much longer, when blueish light filled the room. There was a Eurasian eagle-owl flying in a large circle, seemingly using a non-existent air current before swooping down onto the floor. When the patronus opened its beak, the voice of the Charms professor rang out. 

"Minerva, I came as soon as I could. In fact, I'm standing right in front of the room. But for all I know the door that used to be here, the one with the carvings in the beams, is not there anymore. At first I wasn't even certain if I was at the right place, but I am sure beyond a doubt now.  
I don't know where the door could be now - even if we get the help of other staff members it could be a several hours to search every corridor until we've found it. And even then it is likely that I wouldn't be able to open the door from my side. Probably Hogwarts is just shifting around some doors, and it won't take very long until it reappears at its old place. If you wish me to start the search nevertheless, let me know."

The owl closed its beak again and intently stared at the fuming Headmistress as if it could sense the waves of anger rolling of off her. Then with a few beats of wings, it took flight again and escaped into freedom.

"... course I would want them to keep searching for it, these doors do not just disappear without a reason and even..." The tall witch grumbled a bit more, before drawing a deep breath. 

On releasing it, she must have nonverbally cast the patronus charm as the familiar tabby cat with rectangle markings around the eyes appeared. The ease of her using magic so effortlessly kept astounding the younger witch. She had seen the headmistress rebuilding large parts of the castle by herself, but seeing her casting a difficult spell like he patronus nonverbally and hardly even moving her wand, was still incredibly fascinating to watch. 

"Yes, Filius, I would be most grateful if you start your search as soon as possible. If the matter doesn't resolve itself soon, we will need all the support that we can get." The tabby cat silently meowed and walked away in a leisurely pace. Hermione huffed. _Cats._

And so the two witches were alone again, each of them deep in thought, trying to find a solution.

Feeling a little restless, Hermione stepped close to nearest of the four windows, and cracked it open. To her surprise and disappointment she couldn't feel a breath of wind entering the room. 

"These are enchanted windows," the cool voice behind her announced. Hermione turned around. "On this side of the floor there were no real windows installed originally. These were added later to let in natural light at least. However, as professors had a hard time teaching a bunch of teenagers brimming with pheromones and exuding their... natural odours, these classrooms were abandoned and more fitting locations were found. More precisely, rooms with actual windows to allow a natural draught," the black-haired witch added, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

All of a sudden a brilliant idea formed Hermione's mind. Why hadn't she thought of that earlier? "Professor, what about the house elves? We could ask them to apparate us out of here."

"I don't think it will work, Miss Granger." A pained look crossed over the headmistress' face. "As the headmistress I am able to bend the non-apparition wards whenever I need to. Earlier, while you still tried unlocking the door, I tried it but I was unable to drop them. It was almost as if Hogwarts itself was bristling against it and the wards wouldn't budge. I doubt the house elves will be any luckier." 

"Hm, I had hoped that..." the brown-eyed witch trailed off. "We will find a way out soon," she added confidently. However, the slump in Hermione's shoulders revealed her true feelings on the matter. 

"Tiffy!" the headmistress called out, willing to try at least. 

With a pop a small house elf in a pale blue apron appeared. "Headmistress called Tiffy?" she asked with a squeaky voice. 

Both women were momentarily gaping at the small elf.

"Yes, Tiffy. I wondered if you would apparate Miss Granger to her common room and me to my office," McGonagall stated calmly.

The tiny creature nodded eagerly. "Tiffy would love to be of service. Please takes my hands." 

Hermione quickly stepped away from the window, picked up her book from the teacher's desk, and took a leathery hand into her own. She cast a quick glance to the regal woman next to her, and could see the happiness mirrored on her face. 

Several seconds passed, both women clutching Tiffy's hands. 

A loud wail broke the silence. Hermione immediately let go to cover her ears.

"Tiffy is so-o sorry-hy-hy! Tiffy cannot apparate with yous! Tiffy is a bad house elf! Headmistress is angry now and she will give Tiffy clothes!" 

Hermione looked down at the heartbroken creature. Large tears escaped the tennisball sized eyes, soaking the small uniform, despite the hands covering the eyes.

"Hush, Tiffy..." the headmistress said in a soothing voice. She knelt before Tiffy and slowly pulled away the leathery hands. "And it is not your fault, is it?" 

The blue eyes looked up remorsefully. "No-o-o," she sniffed, "Hogwarts'es magic won't allow Tiffy through with the Headmistress. Hogwarts only allows Tiffy to apparate."

The black-haired witch nodded, "That's what I thought." She pressed Tiffy's hands shortly. "I am not mad at you, and I'm not giving you clothes, Tiffy. I would highly appreciate if you could fix us a tea, though, that would make me and Miss Granger a lot happier."

Tiffy nodded in earnest, making her pointy ears flapping back and forth. "Tiffy would be happy to be helpful!" And with another pop she was gone.

With a huff the older woman gracefully got up from the floor again. She noticed Hermione's calculating look. "Is there something you wished to tell me?"

"You were really good with her... Respectful. Not- not that I would have expected otherwise," Hermione added quickly when a shapely brow rose on McGonagall's forehead. "You treated her as an equal, I guess. Well, almost, I mean. Apart from the fact that she is a slave for Hogwarts," Hermione said bitterly.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall growled warningly.

"It's true, isn't it! They are no more than slaves, and still nobody seems to care about it!" Hermione replied hotly.

"I do care!" she shot back with the same intensity, "Just because the great Albus Dumbledore didn't bother to help changing some fundamental rights for the creatures that keep everything at Hogwarts running smoothly, doesn't mean I have to do so as well. I don't have to accept the way things were!"

A surprised look took over Hermione's face, "What?"

"I care about the magical creatures of Hogwarts. That's why I offered every single one of them compensation for their work here." A flicker of pleading crossed over the usually composed face. "But I can't magically change their own views of employment, Miss Granger. I tried, and failed. Just like you once tried, and failed. I can't force them to accept our wizarding money, when all they want is gratitude."

"You... You offered them payment?" If Hermione hadn't been so utterly surprised by the turn of their conversation, she would have been embarrassed by her stuttering.

"Yes, Miss Granger."

Brown eyes met green ones. "Thank you," Hermione whispered, and felt herself tearing up. Not wanting to see her former teacher to see her crying over what most of the wizarding folks would consider a mundane topic, she turned away and curled up in her armchair once more. _Someone cares. I am finally not alone in her fight for the elves' rights._

Being caught up in her thoughts and gratitude and her sheer will not start wailing loudly like Tiffy a minute prior, she didn't notice the armrest of the armchair lowering, or the seat widening. She did, however, notice when the surface beside her dipped, and she was pulled into another embrace.

She let herself be comforted for a while as silent tears escaped her eyes, enjoying the warmth and breathed in Minerva's familiar scent. After a while the tears stopped, and her heart rate slowed. Sitting there, Minerva's chin on her head, her fingers absentmindedly drawing lazy circles on Hermione's back, breathing synced up, Hermione felt safer than she has in a very, very long time. 

"You give terrific hugs, has anyone ever told you that?" she laughed waterily.

"I'm not someone who hugs people frequently... But I guess you wouldn't know." Hermione slowly pulled back again, eyes all red and swollen, skin blotchy, but with a smile on her face. "Feel better?"

Hermione smile widened even more, "Immensely."

With a last warm smile, McGonagall slowly got up from the couch had just transfigured from the armchair. 

She watched the woman for a moment longer. She just smiled crookedly back. "I guess I could use the time now to do some light reading." She vaguely gestured towards the book she had checked out from the library. "No time like the present, huh?"

"Indeed," McGonagall confirmed. She turned away and cast some spells that made some charts about Hogwarts and its grounds appear in glowing letters in the air in front of her.

*****

An hour had passed, the silence between the witches not uncomfortable like before but rather companionable.

"Professor, what do you know about the energetic conservation in transfiguration?" Hermione asked, shaking the black-haired witch from her train of thoughts. She stepped away from the numbers dancing in the air, turning around to face the younger woman again.

"That depends. There are many theories going around. Which one does your book support?"

"It mostly talks about the changing entropy and free enthalpy while transfiguring, but what really intrigues me about it is the explanation about activation energy." 

With an incline of her head, Professor McGonagall indicated her to proceed. 

"So if transfiguration can be compared to an endergonic reaction, it would make sense that they do return to their original state after some time if the activation energy is not too high. But how does that process relate to the caster's death? Why do all of our transfigurations dissolve then? Is a part of our magic sustaining the transfiguration permanently? Are we unknowingly being drained of magic because we haven't undone some transfigurations on stuff we did in third grade?"

A puzzled expression entered Hermione's face before she continued, "And what about the natural reversion to the original state? Basic physic theories postulates that it's only possible if the activation energy is not too high and only if the transfigured state is more energetic than the original one. So if we use magic, which is basically energy in its raw form, to transfigure an object, we automatically put the object into a more energetic state, don't we? But considering the standard transfiguration of, say, avian into goblet, I fail to see the practical aspect of it? Surely the goblet is actually less energetic than a living being? Would it not return to its original state then?"

Looking up after her monologue of questions, Hermione almost laughed at the gobsmacked face of her former Transfiguration professor.

McGonagall cleared her throat, "I certainly had not expected such elaborate and detailed questions. To answer your last question, Miss Granger, the goblet in question would be in an energetically speaking higher state. It may not seem like it as it doesn't move or live like an avian does. However, you still have to consider that this is not its natural state. Each cell of the avian is changed to a new form, a form that is factitious and a lot more homogeneous. To uphold this, energy is essential – otherwise the avian would never revert back if the goblet was the energetically speaking more favourable."

Hermione pondered over the answer for a bit, but the headmistress continued, "The real question here is what would happen to the goblet if the activation energy is too high for it to revert back to its natural state?" Hermione's brows shot into her hairline. "As to your first question about the significance of the caster's death... You are right in your assumption that transfigurations will drain our magic in the long run. Most transfigurations are not long lasting, though, and at the beginning they mostly use the natural exuded magic the leaks from your core into the surroundings. But as time wears on, the compulsion to revert back will get stronger, and so does the draw on your magic. So if the caster suddenly dies, there is no magic to sustain the transfigured state, and it returns to its natural form."

Hermione thought back to her time on the run with the boys. Back then, they had constantly lived in a tent with transfigured beds and quilts and chairs and even a table. They had already been wearied by the constant fear and stress, and by temporary malnourishment when things were bad. They also had the horcrux which seemed to feed off their magic as well. And now she found out that all these transfigurations had drained them even further. It was no wonder they had felt so exhausted all the time. It was an unfathomable wonder they all came out of that war alive.

"I hope this sufficiently answers your question." 

Hermione looked up again, and smiled gratefully. "It does. It's a lot to think about." 

"Thank you," she added.

*****

Hermione looking up after a while, staring out of the window. At least two hours must have passed since entering this cursed room. She wondered if anyone in the Gryffindor tower has noticed her absence yet. _Probably not._ She let her gaze wander over the two other windows and the dozen tables in the classroom.

"Professor!" She jumped up alarmed, her book slipping from her lap unnoticedly.

The black-haired witch, who was currently standing with her palms flat against the walls, was ripped from her deep meditation. She looked a lot more exhausted than an hour ago, and had to steady herself on the wall to stop her swaying for side to side.

Hermione rushed over to the professor, just in time when McGonagall suddenly toppled over to the side, grasping her arm instinctively. 

"Woah, steady." She held onto the professor's arm for a couple seconds longer.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" 

"Are you okay?" 

"I will be in a minute." The formidable woman straightened herself. "Now what was so made you leap up so unexpectedly?"

"Something is wrong. Look at the room!" Hermione urged. "When we came here there were _five_ windows, right? And there were definitely enough benches to fit the students of two houses, not just one!"

McGonagall took in the room, eyes widening by the second.  
"No," she breathed out, "that's impossible. I would have... But the shifts..." Her voice broke away. She looked around. "You're right, Hermione, you're absolutely right. The shelf in the back completely disappeared."

Hermione whirled around, but just as McGonagall stated, the shelf was gone. How could she miss that?

"But I was connected to the wards, Hermione, and nobody could have gotten something like this past my notice, especially if it was of ill intent."

The brown -haired witch cast an assessing glance over to the other woman. "Is that what you've been doing just now? Checking the wards, I mean?" 

McGonagall nodded, "Yes, you saw the charts, but some of the readings just didn't make sense. It was the only way of finding out what they meant."

"What do you mean when you say you were _connected_ to them? Wards are not much different from shields, only that they are bound to places instead of people, correct?"

McGonagall seemed to ponder for a second. "As headmistress of Hogwarts, it is my job to keep watch over the school's wards. They mainly protect its inhabitants, but they are numerous others as well. There are wards that keep muggles and muggle technology from finding Hogwarts, from seeing it even. There are wards that keep students from breaking and entering the professors' quarters. There are wards against falling from the Grand Staircase, and from harming yourself, and from keeping you out of places where you shouldn't be. All of these wards are being sustained by Hogwarts itself, by its magical core. Otherwise, the teachers would be constantly drained of magic if they tried to uphold the sheer load of constant wards all around the school. 

"But sometimes a ward will need repairing or it needs to be recast. Only the headmaster or -mistress in my case is able to access the wards. I can connect to them, and essentially examine them from afar. It is easier when I am physically connected to Hogwarts, as it is easier to let my magic infuse the wards then."  
McGonagall seemed to have an internal debate before grounding out, "Do you want to try it?"

A smile with the intensity of a thousand suns spread on the younger woman's face, "Yes!"

"Have you meditated before?" Hermione nodded. "Good. Put your hands against the wall, and try to meditate. Try to go near your magical core."

Hermione did as instructed, closed her eyes, and concentrated on breathing slowly. In and out. In and out. She let the constant stream of thoughts slow down, almost coming to a stop. She reached for her core, trying to settle her mind close to it.

The silent voice interrupted her but didn't pull her out of her meditative state, "That's very good. I'm going to put my hands over yours, and let me magic flow through them."

A moment later she felt the woman coming up behind her, and warm hands cover her own.  
She felt the gentle stream of magic – so unlike her own magic and yet far from unpleasant.

"I'm going to enter the wards now. It can be overwhelming at first."

Just then a staggering load of information rushed into Hermione, filling all her senses for a split second, and making her brain go into overdrive.  
She could feel the students in the Great Hall sitting at their respective tables, she could feel a group of students by the lake, and Hagrid walking towards the Forbidden Forest. She could feel a strong magical field around one of the sinks in the girl's bathroom on the second floor where the entrance to Slytherin's secret chamber was resting. She could feel the staircases shifting their positions. 

"You will get used to it after some time... Then you will be able to block out most of the information, so that you can focus on important matters." She paused for a second. "What you will be looking for then, is an unusual amount of magic where should be next to none."

After a few minutes Hermione found those words coming true. It was easier to push the sensations into the background, and focus on the walls and floors of Hogwarts instead. A room on the third floor was piquing her interest –

She gasped, "This whole room is brimming with magic!"

"Yes," McGonagall quietly confirmed, "It's mostly caused by the reinforced anti-apparition wards here."

"But it's so..." Hermione struggled to find the right words for what she was feeling, "... so powerful... and old?"

"Yes," the headmistress murmured, "Looking at this, I hope you understand why I doubt a student would have been able to cast such a complex piece of magic." She said before adding after a moment's hesitation, "Nor any of the faculty."

"But if it wasn't a student... Who else? Hogwarts?" Hermione snorted. She opened her eyes and turned around to look at her former teacher. She stopped smirking very quickly when she saw the serious expression on the older woman's face. "You think it was _Hogwarts_?"

In a gesture completely unlike the venerable professor Hermione had known for so long, McGonagall ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't know. Yes. It is the only thing that would make sense."

Hermione tried to hide her doubtful expression but McGonagall's watchful eyes caught it anyway.

"Think about it. Who would have such a power to prevent me, the headmistress, from escaping one of Hogwarts' rooms? To prevent me from apparating out, and even the house elfs, who usually are not bound by the same apparating laws as wizards? Who could shrink a room's size from the outside? There simply is not a person on earth who could have such power. But you and I just felt the old magic rushing through our hands. You can still feel it, even!" 

Just in that moment another wave of old magic flooded through their hands, playing with their own magical cores, creating a warmth in their chests and the undeniable feeling of hope and happiness.

"I think Hogwarts wanted us to get trapped here.", McGonagall said quietly, sounding oddly vulnerable.

Suddenly the wall gave away a few centimetres, only to get back to the previous position, and then just as unexpectedly pushing against their hands. 

All of it combined together made Hermione lose her balance, topple over, and land on top of McGonagall; a repetition of events like yesterday morning, too similar to be coincidental.

This time, though, the two women stared at each other, unblinkingly, air sizzling around them. Neither of them noticed the room getting smaller at an alarming pace.

Hermione slowly lifted a hand and brushed some stray hairs from the elegant face infront of her. As they were so close, the hitch in Minerva's breathing was abnormally loud. 

Then the last rays of sunlight dimmed as the room shrank further in size, swallowing even the last window, and the room was pitched into darkness.

Everything in Hermione made her lean just a bit closer, tilting her head slightly to the side. She could feel their breaths mingling. They were bare millimetres apart. Time stopped.

"No. No. I can't... We have to get out, now." An elbow sharply kicked into Hermione's side. She heard feet scrambling away from her, then a crash and all of a sudden blinding light streaming into the room, not much bigger than a broom closet at this point, when the door magically swung open.

Hermione didn't even have a chance to reply before the footsteps were already down the hallway, while she way lying on the cold, hard floor, wondering how things could have gone so wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are absolutely THE BEST. Never, not even in my wildest dream, would I have thought I'd get such a resounding feedback for my small fanfic. 
> 
> I simply have no words to describe the pure joy, the thrill, of seeing so many of you reply. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. _Thank you._


	5. Watch It Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts has planted the idea in their minds - now watch it grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm incredibly lucky to announce that this chapter was beta'd by my friend Hrisi, who doesn't even like Mionerva lmao :D No but seriously, she did a marvelous job. 
> 
> Anyway, I thank you once again for all the comments, and I feel like I sound like a broken recond by now, but it makes me so happy reading your sweet words and I simply want to share my gratitude with you. (:
> 
> Last note: Mo chreach, caileag = Good heavens, girl

Deeply in thought Hermione trudged up the steps to the common room. Being confused was an understatement for her current situation. Her thoughts were coming and going faster than she could process. What was she supposed to do now? She stopped and looked at the book she had checked out from the library mere hours ago. 

If all of this hadn't happened, then she would be in the tower, studying as usual.  
Now, even thinking about studying felt wrong. Instead, she wanted to lie in bed, think about everything that happened this morning, analyse it, going through the things she said and the things she's seen. At the same time, she also just wanted to get away for a while, forgetting it all. 

Hermione kept staring at the innocent book in her hands as if it held all the answers in the world. And usually her books did. They have always been the one thing she could rely on. Until now.  
Now, even books couldn't help her out of this mess. 

"Hermione!" 

The brown-haired girl looked up to the person. Long, flaming red hair entered her field of vision. "Where have you been all morning? Don't tell me you went studying in the library again? The N.E.W.T.s are months away!"

"I..." she started, but the words fled from her brain, and she had no idea how to finish her sentence.

"Merlin, Hermione, you look pale. Are you coming down with something?" Ginny scanned her face.

For a second, Hermione wanted to spill everything that happened; to get a second opinion, an outsider's point of view. But... She didn't even understand half of it as well. Hermione's shoulders slumped. "I think I might be."

"Well, then come on, I'll make you a Weasley special. It's mum's secret concoction that she made us drink whenever we were sick. It's disgusting but it definitely did the trick! Let's go." She pulled on Hermione's arm impatiently.

"Go where?" 

"The Great Hall, or course. It's lunchtime, people usually eat at this time. I'm surprised you didn't see my brother barrelling down the stairs at the mention of food." She snickered at her joke, but when Hermione didn't join in, a worried look passed over the freckled face. "It must be really bad if you don't even laugh at my brother's expense."

Hermione smiled weakly, not in the mood to laugh.

"Let's get you something to eat, okay? I didn't even see you at breakfast today," brown eyes scanned over Hermione's form, "I just hope that's because you went to the kitchens instead, and not skipped it altogether."

Hermione didn't reply.

*****

Lunch was a silent affair. Ginny had tried to rope Hermione into a conversation, and Harry, surprisingly vigilant, was catching on as well. However they saw her faraway look and soon dropped the matter. Hermione picked at her food, and although she should be starving by now, she mostly had to force down some food.

A hand on her shoulder roused Hermione from her thoughts. "You coming?", the blue eyes of Ron looked down at her. 

Hermione looked around and saw that her friends all had gotten up already, "No, go ahead. I need to clear my head." 

"Are you certain? You seem..." Harry struggled for the right words, "I don't know, you just seem kind of off today."

"I'm alright, Harry, there's just a lot on my mind, right now. Don't worry about it, okay?" She sent a small smile at the two boys.

Harry nodded and turned to Ron, "Hey, remember that you wanted to show me the moving sketches Charlie sent you with his last letter?" 

"Yeah, mate, I swear one of them is the exact same dragon that you've faced in the Triwizard Tournament! Wasn't that a Hungarian H--" 

"Oi, why did he send you sketches and not me?" Ginny interjected. 

Ron grinned, "Maybe because he likes me more." 

The two bickered as they slowly walked towards the large doors of the Great Hall, and Harry simply said "See you later, 'Mione!" and followed the Weasley siblings. Their voices slowly faded into the background noise of the Great Hall.

Hermione got up as well, shortly looked at the High Table, and sighed when she saw the empty space in the middle. She turned around, striding down between the housetables, resolve firmly in her mind. She needed to get away for a while.

*****

When she stood outside the front doors of Hogwarts, she eyed the small path between the edge of the Forbidden Forest and the shore of the Black Lake. 

She could see dark clouds towering in the distance. Contemplating if it was a wise choice to leave the castle now, she looked at the movement of the cloud for a few seconds. As they seemed to move to the west of the castle, she deemed it safe enough for a walk around the lake. 

_And even if it starts raining, I can always conjure up an umbrella._  
With a final nod, she turned her back to the large oak doors and took brisk and determined steps away from Hogwarts.

*****

Half an hour later and approximately three and a half kilometres from the front doors, Hermione was no closer to a solution to her problem.

Fact: She had wanted to kiss McGonagall. She had admired her for a long time. She remembered her laughing with her hair thrown back. She is just a woman like Hermione. Hermione is not straight. But... Hermione _liked_ McGonagall?

Why couldn't her life be easy for once? And why did McGonagall have to leave her there, on the fucking floor, not even trying to help her up? 

Frustrated, she kicked a stone into the lake, watching the water ripple as the stone sank into the deep.

Just then the very thing Hermione had hoped to avoid happened. Deeply lost in her thoughts, Hermione hadn't noticed the new cloud formation in her back, and approaching her quickly. Only when the first sprinkle of water dropped into her face, she became aware of her surroundings. Not even half a minute later large drops of warm rain were coming down heavily, and now the muddy trail was considerably slowing her down on the way back. 

She quickly conjured a translucent yet effective rain shield over her head which kept her mostly dry. However, the wind picked up as well and Hermione was helpless against some random gushes of rainfall from the sides. As she already had to focus her magic on the umbrella, she was unable to shield herself from the chilly wind. Being at the weather's mercy like this, Hermione desperately wished for her little bluebell flame jars to keep her somewhat warm.

Within minutes her shoes were soaked and caked with mud. Hermione sighed deeply, and lightly cursed the strict restriction of apparition on the Hogwarts school grounds. Forlornly, she looked over the surface of the lake; the usually flat surface of the lake now disturbed by the rainfall and rearing waves. 

By now, the rain was coming down heavily. Looking into the distance, she had trouble making out the imposing towers and their bay windows of the school. Only the occasional lightning overhead in the clouds illuminated them in an eerie light for the flash of a second.  
However, as she had slipped on loose and wet cobblestones and sunk into a few mud pits already, she had become very mindful of where to place her feet and didn't have time to look at the ominous sight ahead of her anyway.  
Thus, she also didn't notice a black hooded figure making their way towards her.

"Hermione!" 

The brown-haired woman immediately looked up at the distant voice, drawing her wand in reflex. She quickly relaxed again when she recognized the poised posture of the venerable Headmistress. 

In the blink of an eye, the same figure appeared next to her with a crack. Before she could react, warm hands took her by the arms and turned her towards the older witch.

"Mo chreach, caileag, yer lips have turned blue! What were ye thinking, goin' oot in a weather like this?!" The green eyes roamed over the thin sweater and soaked jeans. "Ye didnae tell anyone where ye went, or how long ye'd be away or with whom ye were meeting! Yer housemates were worried when you didnae come back to the common room and were nae to be found in the library as well!" 

Hermione didn't even hear most of the rant. She had simply looked the formidable woman infront of her – her face distorted with irritation, stray locks completely soaked in the rain and plastered to the side of her face, stormy green eyes obviously swirling with emotions, the heavy outer robe slowly being drenched the longer they stood here, far away from the sheltered hallways and roaring fireplaces. 

And yet, Hermione had never seen anyone so beautiful as the witch standing in front of her. This was the precise moment when she realised that she was utterly and completely head over heels in love with Minerva McGonagall.

Hearing the black-haired witch's stream of words, her anger and uneasiness from the hour prior dissipated. With a start, Hermione also realised that despite everything that was being said between the two of them, she knew that the headmistress _cared for her_. Even now as the beautiful face was distorted with irritation, Hermione could see that underneath everything Minerva was just worried, not genuinely angered.

Hermione took a step closer, and placed her hand on top of the one still clutching her arm. "I'm alright," she said soothingly, smiling crookedly. "I didn't mean to worry anyone, least of all you. I ..." She took a deep breath. "I just needed some time away, I needed to think for a bit. I genuinely didn't think the weather would turn so quickly," she pleaded, her eyes begging for forgiveness. 

Letting her eyes roam between the brown ones staring back at her, Minerva let go of the anger and the fight left her. "I'm just glad you're alright," she stated, trying to get her mask of indifference back. Yet with her Scottish burr still quite pronounced, her state of mind was revealed to the attentive ear.  
Hermione, however, just noticed that the Headmistress had slipped back into the proper English, and knew the worst of their altercation was over.

“Let's get you back to your rooms before you catch a cold out here with your clothes practically soaked from the rain." 

Hermione started sniggering. At the confused gaze she explained, "Look who's talking! You look no better than I am!"

Only then the black-haired witch was aware of the rivulets of water streaming down at the side of her face, and the wetness slowly invading her dragon hide boots. "I suppose you are correct, Hermione," she chuckled. She held out a hand for the younger woman in front of her. "Come, I'll apparate us back." 

Hermione swiftly ignored the outstretched hand and instead stepped into the embrace with the other woman. Being so close allowed her to feel the warmth radiating from the thick robes, to breathe in the familiar lavender smell, and it also made it possible for her to hear when the older woman inhaled sharply. After a moment of confusion, the older woman's arms came around her torso and settled around her waist.  
From so up close, Hermione also noticed that the forest green eyes held a hint of gold and brown close to the pupil, adding to their utter beauty. Hermione didn't miss the affection shining out of these whirlpools of colour.

The familiar tug at her navel was the only indication before the world disappeared in a swirl of black. A moment later they were standing in the familiar round office.  
A fire was blazing in the hearth, heavy raindrops were happily pattering against the large ornate window panes, an odd trinket was spinning lacy circles on the shelf, the portraits of the former headmasters and mistresses were either asleep or currently visiting another frame, a sheet of paper fluttered to the ground when the wind of apparition hit it. 

All of that was irrelevant as the two women stood there in their tight embrace. They stared in each others' eyes and the surroundings melted away. All what mattered was the feel of body against body, of sharing heat, of hearts beating the same beat, and eyes that held warmth, and affection, and uncertainty. 

Minerva let her gaze roam over the young face in front of her, taking in the rounded eyebrows, long lashes, a cute button nose, and luscious lips. A tongue darted out to wet it, and Minerva couldn't avert her eyes from the spectacle.  
Hermione was looking into the green eyes, when they suddenly wandered over her face and got stuck on her lips. Her throat felt dry, and she licked her lips.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity and yet felt too short-lived. 

In the fireplace a log fell over with a muffled sound, breaking the moment. The headmistress disentangled herself quickly, albeit reluctantly. Her head was ringing and her thoughts were all over the place. She stepped away and turned to the window, watching the droplets race each other down the glass.

Hermione was almost able to see the walls erecting around Minerva again, which was confirmed when it wasn't Minerva that turned back to her; it was Headmistress McGonagall. The small amount of hope that she had vanished instantly.

The Scotswoman drew her wand and with an almost unnoticeable flick she dried her clothes. For a moment some pins were floating in mid-air, freeing the black tresses from the usual updo. Another twist and her locks were floating next to the pins, seemingly weightless and still curled up from the rain. In the blink of an eye, they dried and were pulled back into its customary bun by invisible hands, and the pins secured the elegant hairstyle.  
She repeated the motions, and Hermione was relieved when the clammy feeling of wet clothes disappeared instantly.

"Miss Granger, it would be better if you returned to your dormitory now. If you feel unwell, you can stop by the Hospital Wing first to get a pepper-up potion first, but I would strongly advise against staying in these wet clothes any longer than necessary."

Hearing the clear dismissal – not just in her words but also in tone and gestures – Hermione walked to the door with a heavy heart. Barely turning her head back to the other woman, she said very formally, "Thank you for taking me back here."  
And just like that, she walked out of the door, the feeling of loss acute. 

*****

The woman stared at the door for a long moment, willing it to open again, wishing Hermione would return. When neither happened, she chastised herself for her foolish notions and silly feelings, and promised herself to bury these forbidden thoughts into the deepest recesses of her mind. There was so much wrong with what she felt, and nothing could ever come of these stupid thoughts anyway. She would forget about it all, even if her heart yearned for the warm, brown eyes and the bright smile, and warm hugs and the simple -- _No._

To distract herself from the strange feeling of loss, Minerva sat down at her desk, warily eyeing the stack of unopened letters. She sighed. The sheer endless amount of paperwork was truly one of the worst downsides of this job. 

*****

Hermione slowly strolled back to the Gryffindor tower. When she had left the castle this afternoon, she was certain her... feelings were unrequited, and that she had misread the entire situation, hell, the past _days_.

Now, she was uncertain again. Everything seemed to confirm that Minerva cared about her. But she had been shot down before, and she didn't want to face the embarrassment if she tried to approach Minerva and get rejected again. 

Had she really misread their interactions? Was she simply projecting her own thoughts and feelings onto the object of her desire?

She stopped short. _No._

She had analysed the entire situation over and over again in the last few hours. Many things could be said about Hermione Granger, but if she did her research, she was nothing but thorough. And if she had come to a conclusion, then it was right. It was right simply because she had already thought of the alternatives and ruled them out as a possibility, true to muggle detective Sherlock Holmes fashion. 

And in this case, she had seen how the older woman had acted, and what she had said in contrast.  
But Hermione had known her for a long time, and by now she was certain that you had to pay attention to her actions if you wanted to read her moods and intentions correctly.

And she had seen how Minerva had paused, and _looked_ at her each and every time they have been close. 

This couldn’t have been her imagination.

With determined steps she turned around, getting faster with each step. _Time to find out the truth._

*****

When she read the first lines of a letter written in a very cramped script, her mind wandered off to the bushy-haired Gryffindor again. The girl who fought so valiantly at Harry Potter's side, whose never-ending thirst for knowledge made her one of the most powerful witches of her age, who always fought for the improvement of the world; who rebuilt this castle – Minerva's very home – without being asked to do so, but because it was the right thing to do. The girl who made it so easy to banter with her; the girl who trusted her so implicitly despite her recent experiences with war; the girl who could make even the worst situations seem bearable, and who never, ever gave up...  
A girl who – Merlin help her – she could see herself falling in love with. 

Rubbing her eyes in exasperation, she cursed the morose thoughts.

A loud rap was heard from the front door. A look at the clock on the mantle confirmed that it was almost 3 o'clock, still an hour too early for Filius' requested afternoon meeting. 

When she opened it with a frown on her forehead, Hermione was standing infront of her, gasping for breath as if she had just run up the spiral staircase. 

"There's something I need to confirm," she said breathlessly. 

Then she stepped well into Minerva's comfort zone, curled up a hand at the nape of older woman's neck, and pressed her tantalizing lips against Minerva's. Her momentary look of confusion was quickly replaced by surprise and need. The two women stumbled back into the professor's rooms and with the last coherent thought, Minerva took out her wand and whirled a few spells into the air in a quick succession before giving her attention to the gorgeous woman in front of her. 

The door closed with a slam.


End file.
